Love Me Tender
by Moxiegirl13
Summary: (1960s CaptainSwan AU) Nineteen year old Emma Swan is a possible witness to a mob-related crime, the prime suspect: her ex-boyfriend, Neal Cassidy. Her life is upside down, and along the way she meets handsome young officer Killian Jones who she finds herself falling undeniably in love with. As the case unravels however, so do the lives of Emma and everyone around her.
1. The Story Begins

The room was cold, metallic, and so unfamiliar. Emma knew why she was here, but none of the events that had happened seemed real. She wished fiercely that she could just go back in time and not go out with Neal that night. Maybe things would have ended better for both of them. He wouldn't be in custody and she wouldn't be in the cold and unforgiving precinct, and there wouldn't be a dead body lying on some cold table awaiting an autopsy.

Emma shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around her abdomen. It seemed hours before an officer finically arrived to talk to her. The door creaked open and in stepped a man. Tall and only a few years older than Emma herself, normally Emma wouldn't be able to notice how good looking he was, but under the circumstances, the thought didn't even cross her mind. Sitting down in the chair across from her, he ran a hand through his raven hair.

"Miss Swan, I'm Officer Jones." He gave her a tense smile that didn't reach his eyes. Although he was only a little older than Emma, he looked weathered. Tired. Maybe it was just the unshaven look he had that made him appear so rugged.

"I'm here to ask you a few questions about the event you witnessed. I want you to know that you are not in any trouble whatsoever, I'm just here to take your statement." He cleared his throat and opened up a notebook, rustling the papers noisily. Emma sat back in the hard metal chair and rubbed her temples. That night had been one giant blur. "Tell me in a detailed manner, what exactly you saw that night." He waited, pen poised.

She didn't remember much. But she remembered enough. She took a shaky breath before speaking.

"I had just gotten off of work. Neal and I... We had been fighting again. We did that a lot. We were, uh. We were broken up but he still came to pick me up after my shift at the diner. He said he had something to tell me, that it was important. So I gave in. When he came to get me we walked a few blocks to an alley where he'd parked his car. There... Was a man standing by it. Neal told me to stay put so I stayed around the corner by the apartment building. Neal was gone for a while and when I looked back he was arguing with the man." Emma paused and drew in a shaky breath.

Officer Jones looked up inquisitively. "You alright?" He asked quietly. He actually looked concerned. Emma nodded and tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Yeah I'm fine. I just wish I could remember more." She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing.

"I didn't get a good look at the man, but he was wearing a suit. Which is kind of odd for downtown. Anyway they argued for a while and then Neal came back to where I was. He looked, angry. I asked him what was wrong but he just kind of waved me off. He was pretty quiet the whole ride. For a few miles there was this black car behind us. I didn't think much of it, but when we got close to my house, I noticed that the _same _car was behind us. Neal made sure I got in the house, and then he bolted. That's all I can tell you."

The Officer scratched something down and then looked up at Emma. "Can you describe what the car looked like?"

Emma thought back and tried to remember any small details she could. "I didn't get the best look at it... all I can really tell you, is that it was black and looked pretty new. It was at least a '62."

"So you saw nothing?" He asked. "Nothing you can recall?"

Emma's eyes flicked from the table to the Officers eyes a few times before she finally came out with her response. "No." she said simply. "I didn't see anything. When I was in that alley, there was _one man. _He was well dressed. That's it."

He tapped the pen on the table and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Sounds like we're done here." He pushed back his chair and stood up. "I can escort you out." He opened the door and motioned for her to step out.

"Can I talk to Neal?" She asked, leaning against the door frame, blocking his way.

Officer Jones scratched his head and looked around. "We can't really... do that." He lowered his voice and stepped closer. "But we don't have anything to charge him on, so he'll be released soon."

Emma smiled at him, relieved. "Thank you." She said. She only had to wait for Neal to be released, and he could explain what was going on.

When she finally got home, it was already dark. Warm yellow light shone through the windows, and Emma knew that she would be welcomed with open arms. When she stepped through the front door, her mother was _right there,_ instantly fussing over Emma. "Oh sugar, are you alright? They were kind to you right?" Her green eyes shot back and forth frantically in motherly worry. Emma laughed and took her mother's hand.

"I'm _fine_ Mom. They just wanted to take my statement." Her mother looked a little relieved, and she stepped back. "There is dinner in the kitchen if you want any. But, sweetheart, your father is in there." She warned.

Although gentle and kind most of the time, David Swan was not to be reckoned with. Especially when it came to his wife and daughter. Emma nodded at her mother and cautiously stepped through the door. David sat at the kitchen table, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose.

"Hi." Emma said quietly, sitting down in front of him. She knew he wasn't going to be pleased, so she approached with caution. "Listen, I know I told you that Neal and I weren't together anymore, and we aren't- but he just wanted to talk, and so I thought that it would be fine. And also, I'm almost twenty years old. I think I can handle Neal."

David sat quietly, and waited until his daughter finished talking. He pushed his glasses up so they sat atop his gray-peppered blonde hair. He ran a hand across his face. "Emma. Who knows what could have happened to you. I'm your father, I'm supposed to look out for you, until you're married and then that becomes your husbands job. Someone was _shot _and _killed_, Emma. I would assume you know how serious that is."

He raised his eyebrows in question. "Of course." Emma replied. David reached over the table and patted her hand. "Have they identified the body yet?"

Emma shook her head. "No. They've only recently gotten it. It will take a while before they release who exactly it was."

David nodded again, and looked over in the direction of his wife, who stood behind the doorway. "You can come in Mary Margaret. I know you're behind the door, and our daughter must be starving after the day she's had."

After eating what was left over of that night's dinner, Emma changed and slipped into her bed. She was exhausted from the events of the past few days and prayed that she'd get a good nights sleep. She hoped she would be able to see Neal tomorrow and clear up exactly what had happened. She hadn't withheld information from the police for nothing, after all. Had she?


	2. Hasty Promises

The warm yellow sunlight slid through the curtains and wrapped itself around Emma. She yawned and stretched looking over at the clock on her bedside table. It was 8:00. She was almost late for work.

Flying out of bed and throwing her covers behind her, she hurriedly threw open her dresser drawers and rummaged through her clothes, looking for her work dress. She saw the bright yellow peeking out from between her floral print skirts and multi colored cardigans. Pulling it out and throwing it on, she ran to the bathroom to wash her face and run a comb through her unruly blonde waves.

When she arrived at the diner, she pulled on an apron and headed straight back the kitchen.

"Thought you weren't gonna show."

Emma turned around to see her friend Ruby holding a plate of flapjacks. She was the more _outgoing_ than Emma when it came to the fashion department. With her glossy black hair and bright red lipstick, it was no wonder she got as much attention as she did.

Emma smiled and picked up the coffee pot, pouring a cup for a customer. "Why do you say that?" She asked, setting the steaming mug in front of the man before turning back to her friend. Ruby shrugged. "I don't know. There are tons of rumors floating around about you. And Neal. They're making you out to be a real Bonnie and Clyde." She grinned wickedly at Emma.

Of course there were rumors going around. It seemed like all people did these days was start rumors. No one around town like Neal, mostly because no one knew much about him. His background was a mystery. He had just floated into town and swept Emma off her feet. It was tough, the first few months of the relationship. They fought all the time, mainly because all of the rumors that were being spread about him.

He was a bugler who was hanging around Emma so he could case the houses of the wealthy. Or he was running away from the country where he had a wife and kids who he left behind. Then there was Emma's personal favorite: he was a serial killer who took a liking to young blondes. Long story short, most people in the town didn't like Neal Cassidy. Not one bit. But Emma had been different. She fell for that sly little smile. The mystery that surrounded him. He had been her first love.

"Ru, you know what's going on is just a misunderstanding. Things will be cleared up soon enough." She didn't really expect Ruby to understand. Ruby was the kind who fell in love for a day or two, and then it was over. She looked unsure for a moment, but soon enough, a teasing little grin spread across her bright red lips. "So are you two _back together?_" She tossed the coffee canister to Emma and she started making another pot. "No. We most certainly are not. We probably are never getting back together."

Even though Neal had been her first love, she didn't have those feelings for him anymore. She set the canister down with a thump. "Hey," Ruby said, tilting her head toward the door. "Speak of The Devil."

Emma looked up just in time to see Neal walk in. He looked disheveled and dirty. Like hadn't showered, just came straight from jail.

She set down the plate she was holding and wiped her hands on her apron. Neal walked over to the counter. "Meet me out back." she whispered. He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, slinking out to the back of the diner.

Emma leaned over. "Can you cover me?" She whispered in Ruby's ear. She nodded. "Hurry though, before they notice you're gone."

Slipping off her apron and hanging it on the back of a chair, Emma slipped out back. Neal was leaning up against the back, smoking.

"Neal." She tried hard to keep her voice steady. "What is going _on_? Why was your father in that ally? Is he the one who killed that man?"

He took another drag from his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke out into the fall air. "You just gotta trust me, Ems."

After all she had done, lying to the police to protect him and his father, he was asking her just to trust him? "No. That isn't happening. You told me you would explain yourself. And you will. Or I'll go back to the police and tell them everything."

Neal crushed out his cigarette and whirled around to face Emma, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen to me Emma. You already know too much, alright? I ain't gonna put you in no more danger, understand?" He shouted, slipping into the old speech patterns of The Bronx like he always did when he was upset. Emma shook her head. "This isn't a game Emma. One man is already dead, now just leave well enough alone, so you don't end up the next body on that corner's table." His eyes were wild. They darted back and forth, searching Emma's eyes. "Promise me that you won't ask again."

"I don't-"

"Promise me!" He interrupted, tightening his grip on her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "Stop it Neal! Just stop. I promise, alright? Goodness."

He let go of her shoulders and brought her into his arms. "I'm sorry." He murmured into her hair. "You should never have been brought into this."

She pulled out of his arms and looked him over. "Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

He smiled slightly. "Okay. You neither."

"Bad grammar, Neal. But I won't." She opened up the door and walked back inside, leaving Neal behind to light yet another cigarette.


	3. Broken Promises

The walk to the precinct was a long one. _I should have asked for a ride_. Emma thought. But then again, someone would have asked what she business she had there, and she wouldn't be able to tell them. Even though she had promised Neal that she wasn't going to ask anymore, she had to. Someone was dead, and the guilt weighed on her heavily. She didn't know exactly what she was going to do once she got there. Officer Jones probably wouldn't be able to tell her anything. But she had to know _something_. She couldn't keep going through the motions everyday, knowing that Neal and herself had potentially been accessories in a murder. Since he had lied, telling her he would disclose the truth to her and then refusing to tell her anything, she had to take matters into her own hands.

Inside the precinct was only a bit warmer than outside. It smelled of paper and ink, and stale coffee. A woman sat in front, typing furiously at a typewriter. She looked up at Emma over her wire rimmed glasses. "Excuse me-" Emma said, approaching the desk, hands trembling.

The woman held up a finger to stop her from talking, and continued typing like her life depended on it. When she finished, she removed her glasses and wiped them on her stained white cardigan. "Yes?"

Emma was baffled. If this was any indication how the rest of the night was going to go, it was going to be miserable. She cleared her throat and tried not to fiddle with her shirtsleeves. "I'm here to see Officer Jones."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Just missed him." She said. Now she was no longer even looking at Emma. She was shuffling papers around in a drawer noisily. Probably Emma's cue to go.

"Well, do you know where I can find him?" She was no longer nervous. Irritation had overshadowed any other emotion she was having at the moment, and it bled through into her voice. The receptionist stared daggers at Emma and sighed a long, heavy sigh. "Well, I'm not supposed to disclose his address... What exactly is your business with Officer Jones?" Her voice was accusatory. Like Emma was an assassin, looking for young officers to target.

Panicked, Emma said the first thing that came to her mind. It wasn't a good idea, at all. But it was the best thing she could think of short notice. She placed a hand over her abdomen and rubbed around in a small circle. "May I just say that I have something _very important_ to tell him." She smiled and tilted her head to the side.

The woman's eyes were as large as saucers, bugging out even farther as she put her glasses back on. "Oh. Ahem. Uh, yes. Well. Let me just write that down for you." She took out a pen and scrawled out the address on a scrap of paper. "Here you go." She said, looking absolutely scandalized. Emma took the paper. She felt guilty. This poor officer was going to have to deal with awful rumors now because of her. Hopefully he would be able to clear things up.

She lifted the paper closer and read the address. She groaned. He lived in east Manhattan, which was too far to walk. She would have to take a taxi, using the money she had just gotten paid. On her limited income, she hated to spend any money at all. She was saving. For what, she didn't really know. She was waiting to find a dream. Something to spend all that saved money on.

Rain started pouring down in sheets, and suddenly she wished that she had brought a coat. Standing on the wet pavement, she hailed a taxi. When she got in she read the address off of the paper to the cabbie. "What ya headed down there for?" He asked, looking at her through the rear view mirror.

"I'm going to see a friend." She replied simply before slouching in her seat and looking out the window, hoping to avoid any more questions. The man nodded and didn't ask any more questions for the remainder of the 20 minute ride. Rain pattered on the roof of the cab, and Emma played mindlessly with her bracelet, until the car stopped. The cabbie turned around in his seat. "Here you are." He said, motioning toward the apartment building. Emma reached in her purse and pulled out a wad of money and handed it to him. He looked thoughtful for a second before handing it back. "Nah. I'll cover this one for you Hon. You look like you're having a hard enough day." He smiled kindly and patted Emma's hand.

She stepped out of the cab and ran inside, avoiding a further soaking. The officer lived on the fourth level. She took the stairs two at a time, and searched for his room number. When she found it, she stood with her hands limply at her sides. Finally gaining the courage, she lifted her hand and knocked. For a moment, there was nothing. Then finally a very sleepy looking Officer Jones opened the door. He wore a white t-shirt, his hair a mess of raven waves sweeping over his forehead. His brow crinkled a bit when he saw who it was. "Miss Swan? What are you doing here? How did you get my address? Oh, you're soaking wet. Come in."

He bounced from one thing to another so quickly, Emma could barely keep up. He opened the door wider and she stepped in.

"I'm sorry to intrude, you were sleeping. This whole thing was a mistake. I should go." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her shoulder, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Whatever you came for must be important. Sit down, I'll put on some coffee and get you warmed up, alright?" He smiled reassuringly and disappeared to the kitchen. Emma sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. _What am I doing? _She thought. This was crazy. He wouldn't tell her anything. This was a waste of a trip.

Interrupting her thoughts, was the sound of water running. Soon enough the smell of fresh coffee wafted in the air, as the officer came in holding two ceramic mugs filled to the brim with steaming, fragrant coffee.

The Officer returned and sat on the couch. "So," he began casually, as if she hadn't just burst in and disrupted his sleep. "tell me what you're here for."


	4. Rain and Confessions

She ran her hands over the coarse fabric of the couch and tried to figure out how to begin. All her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she still wasn't sure if this is what she should be doing, her thought tangled together like a sticky spiders web.

She was spared from having to begin when the officer spoke. "Oh, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I wouldn't want you calling me 'Officer' all night." He smiled. "I'm Killian Jones." The smile somehow made his eyes a little bluer, the sleepiness seeming to fade a bit from his face. Emma's throat felt a little less tight now. She smiled. "Emma Swan. But you...already knew that." She felt her cheeks start to turn red. What was wrong with her? It must be all the stress. She was never flustered around men. In fact, she intimidated most of them.

"So Emma, what brings you to my door step on this fine, _late_ night? I doubt that it's my devilish good looks." He winked at her, trying to ease the tension, but it only made it worse. Maybe she should have thought harder about this. Wasn't there someone else she could talk to?

She took a deep breath "I know you aren't supposed to talk about your cases. But I think I can help your case, if you would let me. I would need to know some things first."

Killian leaned forward, clutching the steaming coffee mug in his hands. "Miss Swan, you know I cannot discuss the details of a case." Every bit of humor was gone from his voice.

"What if I'm a consultant, or something. Isn't there any way?" She was desperate and it was a long shot, she knew. But she wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt if she could help solve a murder, and didn't. Seconds later the lights flickered, distracting them both momentarily.

Killian looked away from the flickering lights, back to Emma. He looked thoughtful. "I suppose, if you were a consultant we would be able to discuss some details." He said slowly. Hope bubbled in Emma's chest. She sat up a little straighter and pulled a green throw pillow onto her lap.

"What was the... the victims name?" It almost made her sick to think like that. Calling a person a _victim_, acting like they were an _it_ rather than a _who . _She knew that was just the way that things were done, and it wasn't meant with any malice. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to think like an officer. _  
_

"His name was Robert Blackard. He was killed by two gunshot wounds to the chest, and found in the ally. That's all we've got for noiw. We don't know why he was there, or who he was meeting. Nothing." He shook his head, obviously disgusted that they had barely any evidence.

"I might be able to help with that." Emma said. "I may have, left out a few details when I was talking to the police."

Killian's eyes widened in shock. "Emma!" He admonished. "You can't _lie_ to the police! You're going to get in trouble for this, and so am I." He ran and hand over his face, and worry lines creased his forehead.

"I was protecting Neal!" She snapped back defensively. "He asked me to tell no one, so I kept my word. But he refuses to tell me what happened, and there is a man dead. So I have to do what is right. We have to solve this case." She hadn't realized how hard she had been digging her nails into her palms. She looked down and saw little red crescent shaped marks. Balling her hands into fists, she turned away from Killian.

"Listen Emma, I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know how important it is to protect those that you love. Your boyfriend is going to be in serious trouble if they find out he was invoved. So if you want to protect him, and do what's right, you're going to have to tell me everything. Every little detail."

"He's not my boyfriend." She muttered. He looked up at her. "He isn't?"

"No. Well, he was." She stammered. "But...not anymore."

Killian didn't push further. "I see." He said quietly. He stood up and picked Emma's cup off of the coffee table. "More coffee?" He asked, starting toward the kitchen. Emma shook her head. "No. I should be heading home." The lights flickered again before going completely out. "Great." Killian muttered. "Bloody thunderstorms."

Emma's gaze shifted to the window at the exact moment that lightning cracked against the sky so brightly it illuminated the apartment in purple light. There was a shattering sound of thunder as Killian looked at Emma. "I don't thinks it's wise for you to go out in this weather."

"I need to call my parents."

Killian look at Emma in bewilderment. "Are you kidding, Emma? The _power is out. _Looks like you'll be staying the night."

**If you could leave a review, that would be absolutely wonderful! Thanks so much for reading. Happy captainswan-shipping!**


	5. Stay the Night

The rain continued to pour down, but Emma insisted on staying up for another hour, just to see if things would calm down enough for her to go home. Killian was a bit more reasonable than she was, and insisted that she get some sleep."You can take my bed." He said, placing his hand gently on the small of her back and leading her to his tiny bedroom. Emma shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't mind sleeping on the couch." She took a step away from him, ready to go back to the living room. She barely knew this man. He could be an axe murderer for all she knew. She most definitely was not going to sleep in his bed.

"I'm asking you to sleep in my bed." He said again, his accent thickening a bit. Emma's eyes widened. "You don't mean-"

Killian frowned and looked up at the ceiling. He took in a deep breath and released it slowly. "Emma, Miss Swan, I may not have had the _best _upbringing, but I am gentleman enough to let a woman take my bed. I'm not insinuating that we sleep together, I just met you for heavens sakes." He shook his head and looked at her somewhat disgusted.

"You will sleep on the bed." He pointed. "And I will sleep on the couch. _Separately. _Am I understood?" His look told her that there was absolutely no further discussion on the matter. She was too surprised to say anything, so she just nodded. Killian was confusing. He was gentlemanly and quiet but at the same time he seemed cocky and self assured. The Mr. Darcy of the police force she supposed. Too tired to argue any farther, Emma gave in and let Killian lead her to his room.

Killian went over to his dresser and pulled out a white t-shirt and held it out to Emma. "You can wear this to bed." He said. "Wouldn't want your rain soaked clothes soaking my bed." He winked as she took the shirt from his hands. "Thank you." She replied, gripping the clothes tightly.

He turned from her and opened his closet, sifting through haphazard piles of papers and clothes before finally finding what he had been looking for. "Found it!" He said, as he triumphantly held out a throw blanket. He had stepped closer, and they were almost touching. An awkward silence filled the air and neither Emma nor Killian moved for a span of fifteen seconds. Emma swallowed hard. "Goodnight Killian." She managed to stammer out, her voice almost a whisper.

He seemed to notice their closeness, and he stumbled backward. His cheeks grew rosy as he glanced down at her. "G 'Night Emma." He was out of the room as quick and possible and closed the door behind him. Emma waited a few seconds to make sure he was really gone before peeling her clothes off. They were still damp from the rain, and she was happy to slip on Killian's crisp white shirt. The fabric was soft, and felt good against her smooth skin. She tentatively threw back the covers of his bed and slid between the sheets. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, leaving her to feel a dizzying heaviness. The day had been long, for both her mind and her body. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. Her eyelids felt like weights had been attached to them, and she gave into them, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Morning came with the sound of New York traffic, and the smell of brewing coffee. Emma opened her eyes and stretched, sitting up in bed and glancing to her right where she was startled to see a foot high stack of books. Killian's nightstand and dresser both were piled with books, and another stack sat on the floor next to his bed. The man was obviously a reader. She picked up one and read the cover. _War and Peace_ another read _To Kill a Mockingbird. _He obviously read a wide variety, from classics to contemporary. She picked another book and ran her hands across the bindings. The book was pale green and had no title. Opening it carefully, she read the first page.

_Lush and green as a spring _

_With rain and misty skies_

_I long for the land where the days are long_

_Where the sun in the pastures lies_

_The people are kind and the air is clean_

_Oh, how the sun does shine_

_None in a rush and not a soul mean_

_Oh, in this land of mine_

The book was one of poetry. Very well written poetry at that. She was about to read the next page, when the door creaked open. Killian stood there, looking rather awake, considering the hour. He looked at the book in her hands and frowned. "What are you doing, snooping through my things?"

He walked over and snatched the book from her hands like a whip. "I'm sorry." Emma began. She wasn't sure how to excuse what she had done. She hadn't meant to snoop. Her love of literature had apparently clouded her judgement.

"I was just-"

Killian held up his hand. "There's coffee and breakfast in the kitchen. Join me at your leisure." He turned on his heel and left the room without another word. This man was certainly an enigma.

~()~

The tiny kitchen was filled with sunlight and smelled wonderful. Bacon sizzled in a pan and Killian flipped it onto a plate and handed it to Emma, along with a steaming mug of coffee. "Wasn't sure how you took your eggs." He said as he slid one onto her plate. "Hope this'll do."

She smiled at him and took her coffee into her hands. "They're great, thank you." Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness between the two of them.

Killian sat across from her, sipping his coffee with a sly grin spread across his lips.

"What?" Emma asked, unable to keep from smiling herself. Killian reached over and plucked a piece of bacon off her plate. He chewed it thoughtfully and stared at her. Finally he spoke.

"Emma Swan, would you like to go to the beach with me?"


	6. Stormy Sea

Asking someone you barely know, to go to the beach with you is absolutely ridiculous. What possessed Killian to even think about asking her, was a mystery. Emma pulled awkwardly at the t-shirt she was wearing and started to speak. "Officer Jones-"

"Killian, call me Killian, remember?" He interrupted, lifting his eyebrows slightly. "Women, they must be reminded of things constantly before they finally sink in." He added under his breath.

"Killian." Emma said, the edge to her voice sharp enough to cut paper. She silently reminded herself to try harder to remember to call him by his first name. Having him interrupt her at every turn was getting quite annoying.

"I barely know you. And so, I think going with you to the beach is an awful idea." She turned away from him to look out the window. The skies were dark and a fog settled over the city, the red and green of the traffic lights blinking through the mist.

Killian sipped his coffee and looked at her over the rim of his glass. "Well, you've slept in my bed. I think we know each other well enough. After all, you feel comfortable enough to snoop through my things."

Emma felt her cheeks redden as she continued to stare out the window, pretending she hadn't heard his comment. Why was he so irritating? "I don't know... it doesn't seem like a good idea. Anyway, look out the window. Does that look like fair beach weather to you?"

Killian shrugged. "Eh."

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed. "And what about work? We have _important _things to worry about."

Killian leaned over the table, every ounce of humor gone from his face. "Listen to me, Emma Swan. I take my work _very _seriously, and if you think otherwise, I strongly suggest you rethink. But, I also take pleasure very seriously. It is my time off. Which to me, is a rare thing. And I will spend it at the beach, with or without you."

With that, he stood up and brought his dishes to the sink. "I need to call my parents first and let them know." She said. Killian brightened a bit. "Aha!" He exclaimed. "I knew you couldn't resist. The phone's over there." He tilted his head in the direction of the phone. Emma rolled her eyes and headed to the phone. She dialed her parents number and watched Killian start throwing towels and things into a bag. She sighed and turned away. Her mother answered the phone after four rings.

"Hello?" Her voice was tense, and Emma felt a heavy pit of guilt sinking in her abdomen. "Mom, it's Emma."

"Emma? Are you alright? Your father and I were worried sick. Where are you? Why didn't you come home?" Question after question flooded out of Mary Margaret, and Emma waited patiently for her to finish before responding. "I'm fine, I'm good. It was really stormy out yesterday, so I stayed with a friend. You don't have to worry, okay? I'll be home as soon as I can."

"How soon is that?" Emma closed her eyes. She new that tone. That was the I'm-disapproving-but-I-won't-say-anything voice. She had heard it her whole childhood. She was going to have to use a very calm voice when breaking the news about the beach. Just so Mary wouldn't become too upset with her. She definitely was not going to tell her that she was going to the beach with a man, or that it was he who she had spent the night with. She would tell her eventually, but over the phone it would just needlessly make her look bad. She would tell her parents in person, where she could fully explain the situation.

"Soon." She said finally. "I'm going to the beach for a bit, and after that I should be able to come home."

There was silence on the other line for a long time. "The _beach_? Why on earth are you going to the beach in this weather? And with who?"

"Uh. Who am I going to the beach with?" She sighed and bit her lip, looking over at Killian. "Someone's in trou-ble." He said in a sing-song voice. Emma glared daggers at him and tried to think of an appropriate answer.

"You haven't met them." She said finally. Which was true. David and Mary had never met Killian in person. So it wasn't exactly lying. At least, Emma tried to tell herself it wasn't.

"Listen Mom, I've got to go. I love you, and I'l be home soon."

She hung up before her mother could say anything else.

~()~

"How long until we're there?" Emma looked impatiently out the window of Killian's car, noticing the rain falling in sheets onto the ground outside.

"It'll be a bit. Have you never been to the beach before?" He glanced over at Emma who was resting her head on her hand, her fingers sliding through her blonde locks.

"No I haven't. My parents were never...beach-y people."

He smirked and focused his eyes back on the road. "Well you, my dear, are in for a treat."

When they finally arrived at the beach, it had stopped raining. The sand was a dark, wet gray, and waves were crashing against the shore. Emma felt a little stupid, because she had never been at the beach. But she thought surely you weren't supposed to park on it. Yet that's exactly what Killian did. he pulled his car right into the wet sand and parked it right there.

"Well." Emma sighed. "Lets get this over with." Killian looked up from the bags he was unloading and stared at Emma. "You didn't have to come you know."

Now she felt a little guilty. All he had been was nice to her. Letting her stay at his home, in his _bed. _Inviting her to the beach. And all she had done is whine and complain like a small child. She straightened her shoulders and reached out to Killian. She placed her hand over his, which was cold from sitting atop the cooler.

"I'm sorry. I've been rude to you all this time. I promise to try and not be a wet blanket anymore."

Killian looked surprised. "Oh. Well thank you." He then seemed to regain his composure. He took his bag of towels in one hand, and the cooler in another and started toward the beach.

"Come on, blanket. Lets go."

He walked until he found a spot he was satisfied with, and dropped the bags there and started towards the water. When he noticed Emma wasn't beside him he turned around."What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not going swimming Killian. I don't have any dry clothes." Killian wore a mischievous smile. "Yes you do, Love." Emma raised her eyebrows. "I do?"

"Mmhmm. I packed you some of my old pajama bottoms and a sweater. It'll be nice and comfortable for the ride home."

Why did he have to think of everything? She sighed and reluctantly caught up with him at the shore.

The waves hit the shore, splashing both Emma and Killian. The water was cold but Emma promised herself she wouldn't complain about it.

"Here, take my hand." Killian said, extending it toward Emma. "Since you've never been to the beach, I shall teach you a child hood game you missed out on. We're going to jump the waves."

He took her hand and led her a little farther into the water. "When I say jump, you jump, and then let your feet out from under you. It'll carry you back to the beach."

She was scared. Drowning was one of her biggest fears. But she wouldn't say anything. This seemed like a harmless enough game. She took Killians hand and he held it tightly. "Don't let go until we're both ashore, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay." The stood there, watching the waves swell and roll toward them. "Jump!" Killian yelled. They both jumped, and Emma felt herself sinking under the water. A wave crashed over her, and she inhaled the salt water. When they washed ashore- still tightly holding hands, she coughed and sputtered.

"You alright?" Killian asked, kneeling in front of her. She nodded. "Yeah. That was fun. Until I inhaled the sea water. Let's go again."

Killian smiled. "This time try and remember you're not a mermaid."

The jumped the waves, rode them, and swam for hours until they were both exhausted.

Killian spread a blanket across the beach and handed Emma a towel. They both toweled off before reclining on the blanket.

"Want something to drink?" He asked, sitting up and reaching for the cooler. "Sure." Emma replied.

He reached in and took out two cold bottles of _Coca Cola_. He handed Emma hers and then stood up. "Be right back."  
He headed to the car and Emma laid back closing her eyes. A soft sound, like music came from behind her. She sat up and looked back at Killian who had propped open the drivers door of the car and flipped on the radio. A soft tune started playing through the speakers.

_"Love me tender, _

_Love me sweet, _

_Never let me go. _

_You have made my life complete,_

_And I love you so."_

He trudged through the sand and laid back down beside Emma.

They both laid there, eyes closed, listening to the music, when Emma felt Killian reach over and take her hand. He ran his fingers across her knuckles, sending a shiver down her spine.

_"Love me tender,_

_Love me true,_

_All my dreams fulfilled._

_For my darlin I love you,_

_And I always will."_

"Can I tell you something?" He said, his voice quiet and raspy. "Sure." She kept her eyes closed.

"I've known you for only a few days, and yet I care more about you than anyone else in my life."

She was quite and she felt him tense up. "I. Is that. Is that weird?" He said, the insecurity prominent in his voice.

"No." Emma replied. She moved closer to him until she was resting her head on his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart through his wet shirt, and even though it was freezing and they both wore sopping wet clothes, she was warm.


End file.
